Flexible
by electric violinist
Summary: Ste decides to take yoga lessons. Warning: The fluffiest fluff I ever did write.


It started after one of their wonderful energetic sessions. Brendan lay marvelling at Steven's stunning after-glow, his beautifully dishevelled hair, his long limbs almost boneless with fatigue and his expression of satisfied bliss that Brendan felt incredibly proud of. He'd made Steven's face look so content. Again.

It had been an incredible session. They'd taken in more than one location, more that one position and made so much noise it was a miracle no neighbours had phoned the police. Brendan smirked, sparing a thought for the shocked faces of anyone unfortunate enough to overhear Steven's cries of passion. He personally loved Steven's cries of passion. They massaged his ears and his ego very nicely. He loved the slightly tender spots he always found after making Steven cry out in passion, too. Both of those things told him of how much he could make Steven lose all sense, all of his mind, all of his reason and give himself over entirely to the need, to the incredible way Brendan could make him feel. The only thing better than knowing that was feeling Steven do the same to him.

"Wow, Bren!" Steven gasped after a good few minutes of post-coital bliss, "that was amazing!"

Brendan's smirk grew wider. Yes, he was good at this. "Yeah?" he prompted.

"Yeah!" Steven agreed, avidly, "it was just so... incredible!"

"Yeah," said Brendan quietly, "wanna go again?"

"Already?" Steven asked, surprised.

Brendan thought about it. The idea of going again was very tempting, but then so was the idea of sleep. In fact the idea of sleep was very tempting indeed. And Steven's limbs were already tangled with his own, his arms were around Steven, and Steven's head had found that spot on his shoulder that seemed to be designed to fit him. "In the morning," he said, eventually, admitting defeat, not sure he could wait that long, but needing a rest anyway.

"That all's right," said Steven, "you're getting old, aren't ye?"

Brendan snorted. At one stage that evening he'd pounded Steven against a wall, holding the younger man up with his hands and the force of their activities so his feet never touched the ground. He'd like to see Steven try that, even if he was only twenty-three. Brendan had no insecurities about his performance, ten years older than Steven or otherwise.

"What, can't get it up again?" Steven teased, twisting his head to look at Brendan's face. Brendan didn't open his eyes. Steven could tease him as much as he liked, but Brendan was ready to sleep.

Steven made a patronising sound, not unlike the one he used when the kids fell over, "Aw, can't keep up with your younger lover? Maybe you're too old for me!"

"Not too old to put you over my knee," Brendan hinted, giving in to the provocation with a thrill at the thought. Steven loved it when Brendan took charge, and Brendan loved anything that involved Steven's perfect bottom.

Steven snorted that laugh of his that sounded like a donkey being tortured and instantly managed to cure any situation of immediate sexual tension. Brendan rolled his eyes behind his lids and pulled the younger man closer.

"Aren't you impressed, though?" Steven asked, interrupting Brendan's peaceful and charming pre-sleep thoughts.

"Yeah, I'm always impressive," Brendan answered, knowing Steven appreciated Brendan's self belief.

Steven snorted, "Yeah, but with me?" he clarified, and though he always found Steven's performance in bed far more than impressive, Brendan couldn't help but wonder what in particular he was talking about this time. He made a questioning humming sound, somewhere in between sleepy and curious.

"With my leg!" Steven reminded him, "when I got it behind my head!"

Brendan smirked. That had been impressive. Steven was definitely flexible.

"You know, I bet I'd be dead good at that Japanese thing!" Steven announced, confidently.

Brendan frowned. Steven's mind was one of the most amazing he'd ever met, but it did go in odd directions sometimes. "What?" he asked, uncertain if he really wanted to know.

"You know, that thing," said Steven, "where they all put themselves into odd positions and stuff, you know."

Suspecting that he probably wasn't necessary for this conversation, Brendan let himself drift into thoughts of the evening and sleep start clouding him.

"Yogi!" Steven cried suddenly, "like the bear!"

The words were so sudden and emphatic they managed to pull Brendan back to the land of the wakeful. "What?" he grumbled.

"I'm gonna try yogi!" Steven clarified, "you know, 'cause I'm dead flexible, me!"

Brendan sieved through everything Steven had come out with for the last few minutes, trying to make sense of that statement. He was pretty sure there had been nothing to do with gay stereotypes or cartoon characters, so only one sensible suggestion appeared in his mind. "Do you mean yoga, Steven?"

"Oh," said Steven, "yeah, yoga. I'm gonna try that."

Brendan mumbled something Steven could take as support if he wanted and let sleep overtake him. He didn't suppose it would be remembered in the morning.

xx...xxx...xxx

It was.

Brendan awoke to an empty bed. That hadn't happened in a while, and it annoyed him more than it should. He got up, found some pants, then went to find the love of his life.

The love of his life was sat on the living room floor in a pair of boxers with his legs crossed, trying to pull on one of his feet.

"What are you doing?" Brendan demanded instead of greeting him. That was weird behaviour, even for them.

"Well, obviously I'm trying to do that yoga!" Steven replied stroppily, as his foot slipped from his hand, for what Brendan assumed must be the latest of a series of attempts if Steven's frustrated grunt was any clue.

"Yeah, well, I can think of better things we could do on our morning off," Brendan pointed out, leaning casually against the side, hoping Steven would notice his state of undress.

"Yeah, in a minute," Steven replied, grabbing his ankle, and managing to get it sitting on his thigh. Brendan couldn't see the point in that. How could you have sex like that? The ankle fell off. Steven groaned, pouting.

"Look, if you're that bothered we'll find you a class or something, yeah?" Brendan offered, hoping Steven would get over it and they could return to more fun ways of getting their morning exercise.

Steven's legs sprawled open, "Can we?" he said, with excitement.

"Yeah, whatever," Brendan replied, "and I can think of better things to do with your legs right now," he added, pushing away from the sink and making his smooth way towards Steven with all the right moves that he knew enticed his young lover. He saw Steven become distracted, eyes flickering to his bare chest, his strong thighs, the obvious signs of his current intentions. Then Steven licked his lips. Yoga was no longer on anybody's mind.

xxx...xxx...xxx

"Guess what?!" Steven cried instead of 'hello' as he burst into Brendan's office even as the startled cleaner finished emptying the bin.

"What?" said Brendan, already admiring the way Steven's cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright from running in from the cold outside and looking for ways to engineer his favourite outcome from this unexpected meeting.

"I've signed up for classes!" Steven burst out, with endearing enthusiasm that Brendan noticed more than his words. The words didn't make sense to Brendan, but the fact that the cleaner was making herself scarce did.

"That's nice," he said, standing up to make his way to the door, which he peered through in case of nosy employees getting in the way.

"Yeah!" Steven cried, "they start next week! And I met the instructor, right and... what are you doing?"

Having closed the door, and wrapped an arm around Steven's waist so he could pull their bodies closer, Brendan thought that was rather obvious.

"I can't resist you when you're all enthusiastic," he growled into Steven's ear.

"Brendan!" Steven protested, "I'm trying to tell you about yoga!"

Brendan's hand dipped below the line of his trousers and Steven decided maybe there was something more fun to do right now.

xxx...xxx...xxx

"Look Brendan, look!" Steven shouted as soon as Brendan stepped in the door. He grabbed Brendan's hand and pulled him into the living room, shoving him down onto the sofa before standing dead straight in the middle of the floor with his hands like Brendan used to pray at school.

"What are...?" Brendan tried.

"Shush!" Steven ordered, his eyes closed and concentrated, "I've got to concentrate on this!"

"On what?" Brendan asked, frowning, and wondering if he was allowed to take his jacket and shoes off while Steven was concentrating.

"Shush!" Steven repeated, then put his hands in the air. Brendan frowned, but appreciated the way Steven's t-shirt had ridden up with the move, exposing some of his slim waist. Then Steven bent at the waist and put his hands on the floor by his feet and Brendan wondered if this was the yoga thing he'd been talking about. The position did wonderful things to Steven's bum which was now eye height for Brendan. He wondered if he would be allowed to watch from the other side so he could take in the full effect.

Steven took a huge step backwards with one foot and wobbled slightly. Then he did the same with the other. His arse was still gloriously high in the air, and Brendan wondered how long Steven could hold like that, but that position was gone soon, too, as Steven did a weird sort of press up thing until he was looking at Brendan with a big grin with his back curved, hands holding him up and legs still on the floor behind him. Brendan tried not to look disparaging, but he didn't think Steven would have cared, anyway, as his own face was filled with excitement. He pushed off the floor, and once more his arse was in the air. All too soon he stepped forward once more and stood, breathing hard and looking immensely proud of himself.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Wow," said Brendan, assuming he wanted praise, though having no frame of reference.

"It's great, innit?" Steven exclaimed, "and I've only had one lesson."

And Brendan nodded. So that was yoga. It looked a bit odd to him, but if it made Steven happy it was OK with him. "Can I watch from the other side?" he asked.

"Why?" asked Steven with a frown.

"I just think I might learn something," Brendan tried.

"Alright!" said Steven, his frown turning into a grin, "do you wanna try? Do you want me to teach yer?"

"I think this might be more of a spectator sport, for me," Brendan replied, smoothly, standing and moving to a better position. Steven gave him a look of suspicion before clearly deciding he didn't mind and repeating his earlier actions. This time Brendan's view of his bottom was perfect. He managed to make himself wait for Steven to finish before he had to give in to its pull.

xxx...xxx...xxx

"Mayo says I should go more often!" Steven informed Brendan over dinner one night.

Brendan glanced up from the pasta he'd already almost completely inhaled, and asked, "Why are you talking to salad cream?"

"Not mayonnaise!" Steven scolded, "Mayo! My yoga instructor."

"Why would someone name themselves after a condiment?!" Brendan sneered. He didn't mean to sound dismissive, he just thought it was a stupid name.

"Er, it's African!" Steven scolded, "it means 'plain of yew trees.'"

"Yeah," said Brendan, "tree, that's a much better name than salad cream."

"No!" Steven protested, "it's like, deep, innit?"

"Is it?" said Brendan, genuinely bemused.

"Well, anyway," Steven continued, "Mayo says I'm really flexible! I could be really good!"

"I say you're really flexible!" protested Brendan, "I say it all the time!"

"Yeah, well you say it about sex! Mayo says it about yoga!"

Brendan wasn't sure that was a worthwhile distinction and inhaled the remainder of his pasta.

"There's another class on a Sunday," said Steven, "I was thinking of going."

Brendan swallowed, "Some hippy who named herself after a tree tries to sell you another hour of bending and you fall for it?"

"'Ere! Mayo said I was good! Not everything's about money Brendan!"

Brendan sighed. "Yeah, well it's up to you, isn't it, but I like Sundays as they are."

"But I really like it Brendan!" Steven protested, "We'll still get to you know what!"

Brendan sniffed, and leant forward to catch Steven's arm, "Hey, you do what makes you happy, Steven, but are you really telling me you'd rather spend your Sunday with some woman in a leotard going "um" than in bed with me?"

"No," said Steven, like it was obvious "I want to do both!"

Brendan gave up and went in search of something else to eat.

"And anyway," said Steven, "Mayo isn't a woman in a leotard. He's a six foot black man in trousers."

Brendan's appetite disappeared.

xxx...xxx...xxx

"I've just got to stop laughing!" Steven complained. They had just sent the kids off back to Amy's and were clearing away some of the mess their visits always entailed.

"Laughing?" said Brendan, as he used kitchen roll to soak up the rest of the orange juice on the carpet.

"In yoga!" Steven replied, like it was obvious, "like, when we're meditating."

"Oh," said Brendan, "Tree man makes you laugh, does he?"

"No!" protested Steven, "I'm not supposed to laugh, obviously! I just can't help it."

Brendan grunted. Stopping Steven laughing seemed like a stupid thing to try. It would be like trying to stop the sun shining, or flowers growing. Why would you want to?

"I don't really get the meditating," Steven continued. "It's a bit weird, where we're all just sort of lying there and Mayo's saying stuff. I fell asleep the other day."

Brendan scooped up the kitchen roll and threw the wet bits in the bin, but didn't comment on Steven's words. He didn't know why people meditated either. Meditation took Brendan to dark places he didn't want to go.

"Maybe I can sneak out when we get to that bit," Steven suggested. "Say I've got an appointment or something."

Brendan gave a non-committal sound, as Steven threw the last of Lucas' toys into the basket. "Yeah," Steven mumbled, "an appointment or something."

xxx...xxx...xxx

Steven hadn't met Brendan after work.

Brendan hadn't worried at first, and had gone back to the flat alone. He was probably just caught up chatting or clearing up a mess or something. Then after waiting a good hour or so for the younger man to show, he remembered it was yoga tonight.

He snarled. Stupid Tree, trying to get his hands on Brendan's beautiful man! What was it now, twice a week wasn't enough, he needed more of Brendan's hard-earned money so he could spend longer checking out Brendan's beautiful partner? He was taking the piss!

Brendan was half way out the building before he saw a figure running towards him.

"Brendan! Brendan!" shouted Steven, all ragged breaths and flailing limbs, "I've got something to show ya!"

Brendan groaned. "What another yoga position? Where have you been?"

Steven was grinning, "I was talking to Mayo," he explained, and Brendan sighed. Of course he was talking to that stupid hippy bastard. "I wanted to ask about meditation, right? Because I didn't really get it, right, but like, now, right, I so do!"

"Great," said Brendan, unenthusiastically.

Steven's grin broadened, not picking up on the tone, "He said, right, that like, everything, right, you know, everything!" He moved his hands around in big circles to illustrate 'everything', in case Brendan hadn't understood what he meant by 'everything'. "He said, that everything is connected!"

"Great," said Brendan, pretty sure Tree wasn't the first new age idiot to suggest such a thing.

Steven was still too enthusiastic to mind Brendan's attitude, "And I didn't get it at first, right, but like, then I started, thinking, right, because of connected right?"

"Right," said Brendan, still completely bemused and trying to persuade Steven to get the words out.

"Because, connected, right? It made me think of you!"

Brendan's annoyance dimmed. Quite a lot. "Of me?" he prompted.

"Yeah!" gasped Steven, "because we're connected, aren't we?"

Brendan nodded. Connected was an understatement, but it worked.

"We're like, always connected, right? Always? Even when we're a hundred miles apart, right?"

"A thousand," said Brendan, truthfully.

"Yeah!" said Steven, "And Mayo said, right, that I should think about that when I'm meditating! About how things are connected! So I did!"

Brendan frowned, lost.

Steven clarified, "So when I was meditating, right, I was thinking, right, of how we're connected!"

"Right," said Brendan, wondering if he could possibly have understood what Steven was trying to say.

"Yeah! So I was meditating, thinking about how we're connected, and it was the best thing ever!"  
Brendan frowned again at 'best thing ever'. He could think of a hundred things better than thinking about their connection. Acting on their connection, for example. But he was entertained. He suspected Tree would have been shocked to know that his favourite student had been thinking about sex when he was supposed to be meditating.

"Look!" Steven gasped, and launched himself at Brendan, attaching at the lips, and knocking Brendan back onto the sofa with surprise. He pulled back in time to say "Connected," then joined the lips again. Then he grabbed Brendan's hands. Brendan didn't try to stop him. "Connected!" Steven repeated then kissed him again and attacked his trousers.

Brendan was catching on. He liked this development in the yoga saga. He helped Steven get his trousers off before pulling Steven's clothes off and allowing Steven to undo his shirt. When they were chest to chest, Steven repeated, "See? Connected! That's me and you, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Brendan, "Connected."

Steven kissed him again, and Brendan fiddled in his trousers for his wallet which contained their spare supplies. He found them, and prepared Steven who gasped, and said "See? Connected. Like we're puzzle pieces fitting together!"

Brendan quite liked that one. It was unusually eloquent for Steven, and it made him feel like he never needed come up with an excuse to initiate sex ever again. If they were puzzle pieces then they were supposed to fit together like this.

He didn't need to do much now, as Steven grasped his hands and got himself into a squatting position on Brendan's lap, ready for their next move. Brendan looked into his beautiful flushed face and supported him. "I love you," he whispered, and Steven grinned broadly. "Love you too!" he whispered back and lowered himself carefully onto Brendan.

They were both breathing heavily by the time they were flush against each other. Steven had let go of Brendan's hands for a firmer grip on the man's shoulders, and Brendan was holding Steven's hips so he could support the younger man when he started to get over excited, as inevitably happened when they were together like this.

"See," said Steven, "connected!"

Brendan couldn't help but smile even through his lust filled haze. "More than connected," he breathed.

"Yeah!" Steven agreed, breathily, "you're filling me! You're filling my cave!"

Brendan decided it was time to change positions.

Afterwards, as they came down, Brendan having loosened his grip and Steven having rolled back over so he was on top again, Brendan said "I'm filling your cave?"

Steven smacked him gently on the chest. "Shurrup!" he slurred, and lapsed into exhausted contentment.

xxx...xxx...xxx...xxx

Brendan heard the door slam open and closed.

It was late on a Sunday morning, and Brendan was enjoying a shower having taken the opportunity while Steven went off for his yoga practice to have a long run and workout himself. He was starting to feel like he was letting the side down. While Steven was growing more and more flexible, he wasn't getting stronger. He'd decided he needed to do something about that.

He got out of the shower at the sounds of life, and wrapped a towel low on his hips. "Steven?" he called, "that you?"

He heard a mumbling answer, and grabbed a second towel for his hair before going in search of his lover. "You alright?" he called. When the same mumbling greeted him, which sounded like it was coming from the bedroom, he followed the sound and asked "How was yoga?"

Steven grumbled incoherently again from his position flat on the bed with his head buried in a cushion.

"Sorry, Steven, didn't quite get that," he said, sitting on the bed next to his moody boyfriend.

Steven lifted his head from the pillow just enough to say "I don't wanna talk about it!" before disappearing back down again.

Brendan frowned. He might have a problem with the Tree, but he'd got the impression that Steven loved yoga. "What happened?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" Steven cried into his pillow, so Brendan sat for a while, waiting for him to make himself clear.

Eventually Steven said "I'm never going back!"

"Why not?" Brendan asked with a frown.

"Because it's stupid!" Steven cried, angrily.

Brendan had thought that for a while, but wasn't sure if Steven really agreed.

"What's changed your mind?" he asked.

Steven didn't like the question, "Who says it's my fault?!" he cried, angrily, shoving himself up to confront Brendan.

"Well I didn't!" cried Brendan, "I just asked why you suddenly don't like it!"

Steven let his bottom lip stick out. "Made a fool of miself, didn't I?" he admitted, reluctantly.

"Yeah?" prompted Brendan.

Steven nodded.

"Well," said Brendan, unsure what to say to give comfort, "it probably wasn't that bad."

"Wanna bet?" grunted Steven.

Brendan didn't. He wanted Sunday morning sex back. "What happened?" he said, instead.

Steven hesitated. "Well, right," he started, "we were all, like, doing this position right?"

"Right," Brendan prompted, warily.

"And it was dead quiet, right? Like, the music was on but it was a quiet bit and everyone was just in the position and breathing, right?"

"OK," said Brendan, imagining it.

"And... and I farted, didn't I?"

Brendan blinked. He imagined six-foot handsome Tree man looking shocked at the sound that had interrupted his peaceful stupid class, and laughed loudly.

"Don't laugh!" Steven cried, but Brendan already was. And he saw the edges of Steven's lips quiver too, like he was trying not to smile. "Oh I'm so embarrassed!" Steven groaned, miserably.

"What did they do?" asked Brendan, knowing that if they'd made Steven feel bad he was going to have to go down there and show them why they weren't allowed to do that.

"They pretended they didn't hear it, right," said Steven, relieving Brendan of that responsibility. "But you know they did! They all couldn't look at me after!"

"Well, forget them," said Brendan.

"Yeah but..."

"Steven, either you go because you like yoga or you don't. They don't matter, do they?"

"No?" said Steven, like it was a question.

"What matters is that me and you are healthy and happy, and so are Leah, Lucas, Declan and Paddy."

"I suppose," said Steven, uncertainly.

"And every once in a while, I get to fill your cave."

"Brendan!" Steven cried, angrily but letting out a massive donkey laugh.

Brendan gave him the filthiest smile he could manage, and kissed him on the lips. "I don't mind what you choose, Steven," he said, "I already think you've got everything from yoga that you planned to."

Steven screwed up his nose, "Have I?"

Brendan smiled and ran a hand down Steven's leg. "Yep," he said.

"And what's that?" asked Steven, with anticipation.

Brendan pulled the leg up higher, "Can you or can you not, now put both legs behind your head?"

"Yeah," said Steven, with a smile of pride.

"Good," said Brendan, "I can think of more fun ways to practice that."

Steven nodded. And they practised some of Steven's favourite yoga positions. And Steven had to admit it was more fun than the class.


End file.
